Leaving home was supposed to be the easy part. Our home sweet home would become a speck in the rearview mirror as we set our sights on LA—the end of Route 66 for most people, the beginning of a grand adventure for us. Our Prius was neatly packed, a carefully curated selection of snacks within arm’s reach, and our teddy bears snuggled up in the makeshift bed in the back.
But life loves throwing a wrench into your plans.
“Have you noticed that anyone going slower than you is an idiot and anyone going faster than you is a maniac?”
– George Carlin
Change of Plans
A few hours before departure, the hubby came down with the flu. He got feverish; his voice would’ve made Louis Armstrong nod in approval. The timing would’ve made a Swiss watch blush. The car was packed, the water heater turned to ‘vacation’, and Sandy, our big stuffed dog, was strategically arranged to deter unwanted visitors.
So, when life gives you lemons, you stay in bed for a few days and reroute to the less glamourous Needles, Arizona, the closest point to get on Route 66 for us. This meant we could still make the rendezvous we scheduled with our friends across the states and save the Californian dream for the grand finale.
We began in Las Vegas, hopped on Route 66 in Needles, and traveled through the heart of the US of A. After reaching Chicago, we looped back through the northern states, exploring National Parks and quaint towns, before finally ending up in California, finishing the last part of our Route 66 journey between LA and Needles.
What follows is the diary of our 10,000-mile grand road trip.
Day 1
Oatman, Arizona: Burrows in the Wild West Town
We finally hit the road! Drove through Needles and reached Oatman, Arizona. It’s a charmingly rickety place with a wooden saloon, cage jail, shops, and an old mine (“Mines Can Be Deadly” and “Haunted” it said) that look like they’ve been plucked straight out of a spaghetti western set. These old mining communities often turn into ghost towns, but this one was very much alive.
I had my first ‘I’m not in Kansas anymore’ moment. I was playing with a kitten called Princess that a little girl handed me when I felt a weird tugging at my side. A donkey tried to pickpocket my snacks!
I think I’m going to love this trip, rather than just tagging along on Mark’s bucket-list adventure.
The donkeys (or rather burros) casually stroll everywhere in Oatman. A lady who’d had enough of their attention handed me a bag with dry grass pressed into neat cubes, a sought-after donkey snack as I found out. They followed us wherever we went! When we finally got back into our car, they seemed to want to go with us. Those big, sad eyes!
As we drove on, we saw our first historic landmark: the Old Trails Bridge that used to carry Route 66 over the Colorado River. It looks modern to me. Now it carries a gas pipeline.
Backward Driving at Sitgraves Pass
Leaving Oatman, we drove over the Sitgreaves Pass. This stretch of 66 had its heyday from the 1920s to the 1960s. The road climbed, twisted, and turned and I was glad we were hill side, not the abyss side. The first advantage of driving Rt 66 from West to East. We stopped at a beautiful viewpoint and talked in whispers, stunned by the dead silence.
Back in the day, people would hire local drivers to help get their cars over the pass. In the ’20s cars didn’t have fuel injection, so drivers often had to drive in reverse up the hills and use gravity to keep the fuel flowing from the tank to the engine!
On the way to Kingman, we passed the longest train I’ve ever seen, pulled by three locomotives. It was getting dark, and the Route 66 Museum was closed. The road so far is lined with Route 66 signs of all kinds: murals, street signs, highway signs, shop names… you can’t lose your way here.
Burma Shave Shenanigans
There were three sets of Burma Shave signs so far. We’ve always seen them in movies and never even realized that these ads for shaving cream still existed IRL. The last one said (on 5 consecutive signs that reveal themselves as you drive) Don’t lose your head / To save a minute / You need your head / Your brains are in it / Burma Shave.
Wikipedia says that one set of Burma Shave signs said: Free – free / a trip to Mars / for 900 / empty jars / Burma-Shave
Arlyss French, owner of a Red Owl grocery store, did submit 900 empty jars; the company at first replied: “If a trip to Mars / you earn / remember, friend / there’s no return.” Then Burma-Shave sent Mr. and Mrs. French on vacation to the town of Moers (often pronounced “Mars” by foreigners) in Germany.
Kingman Golden Hour and Free Rest Area
After the donkey antics in Oatman, we rolled into Kingman, another living postcard from the past. The sun was setting, and the warm glow on the weathered facades. We wandered around town; I’m still trying to hit my 10k daily steps. The Route 66 Museum was closed, but Kingman itself felt like a time capsule of Americana.
The comedian and general goofball Billy Connoly once slept in a cave 100 feet underground during his Route 66 trike trip, at the Grand Canyon Caverns Inn. When we drove by it, we checked the prices. With the place looking deserted this early in the season, it might fall within our “worthwhile splurge” range. Our hopes were dashed by a quick check of their website, the cave room cost $1000 per night! Camping on the surface runs $20 but we found a much better deal, the rest area by Flagstaff. You can’t beat free.
We made a quick stop in Seligman, Ash Fork, and Williams. Visitor centers, shops, and museums were closed but the towns had their own charm in the dark. It dawned on us that to see everything on Route 66 would take years, not the few weeks that we had allotted.
Got to the rest area. A big, empty parking lot surrounded by trees, quite creepy at the witching hour. A quick pee, brush our teeth, crack the windows, double-check the locks, and cocoon in our humongous sleeping bags.
Day 2
Cute Diner Disappointment
The morning sun transformed the rest area from spooky to lovely. I can’t believe how well we sleep in the car! It might not be so charming if it was out of necessity but for now, it adds to the adventure. There were no cars or trucks around, just us and some squirrels.
We hit the road again, weaving through Flagstaff. Apparently, in 1876, a group of Bostonians celebrating the 4th of July stripped a tall tree of all its limbs and bark, then hoisted an American flag to its top. And just like that, the city of Flagstaff was born. I have to say, this town is adorable. It’s got that perfect mix of small-town charm and high-desert natural beauty. The air is crisp and cool, The San Francisco Peaks loom in the distance.
We wandered through quaint shops and cozy cafes. There’s a vibrant arts scene here, with murals and galleries adding a splash of color to the historic streets. And of course, Route 66 runs right through the heart of town, giving everything a nostalgic vibe.
Frances Short Pond Park right outside Flagstaff is one of those places that felt like a scene from a Norman Rockwell painting—dads teaching their kids to fish, ducks with ducklings gliding across the water, and birds flitting about. An old log cabin stands on the bank, looking like it has stories to tell.
I flipped through the pages of the Moon Guidebook to Route 66. The paper maps and guidebooks seemed fitting for this classic road trip. Miz Zip’s was at the top of their breakfast recommendations, so that’s where we headed.
The cute diner has been there since 1952. Hand-written signs, vintage photographs, and memorabilia lined the walls. The prices were about twice what the (otherwise very current) book said, the young waitress was rushed, and the food mediocre. But hey, we were hungry, and the diner’s atmosphere made up for the cold fries.
The Mystery of Winona
Wikipedia says “Winona is a populated place”, Google spits out results for Winona AirBnB and Winona real estate. Copilot AI says that Winona is a small community of around 167 people. But when you actually get there, there’s… nothing, except two parked railway cars. So, we didn’t forget you, Winona. You just weren’t there.
Two miles down the road, there was a beautiful, historic bridge that Route 66 used to go over, the Walnut Canyon Bridge built in 1924. Now it’s pedestrian-only if there were any pedestrians around.
Standing on the corner in Winslow Arizona
We rolled into Winslow with the Eagles’ “Take It Easy” song blasting:
Well, I'm standin’ on a corner
in Winslow Arizona
such a fine site to see
it’s a girl, My Lord!
in a flatbed Ford
slowin' down to take a look at me!
There’s no doubt that yes, this is the Winslow you are looking for. We got a keychain at the “Standin’ on The Corner” gift shop, peeked into an actual old, red, flatbed Ford parked right opposite it, hugged the Glenn Frey statue, took pictures from everywhich angle, walked over the huge Route 66 sign painted on the blacktop of the intersection, and exchanged glances with the other bemused tourists.
Winslow used to be a bustling stop along Route 66, but its fortunes dwindled when Interstate 40 bypassed it, taking with it the majority of travelers and businesses. Hence the town thought of a way to revitalize itself and the Standin’ On The Corner Foundation was born, along with the park and a yearly festival in September.
6-minute walk from the famous corner stands a beautiful, whimsical hotel.
La Posada
Mary Jane Cotler, the brilliant visionary architect designed La Posada. She first imagined the whole backstory: A Mexican family settled in the area and built a hacienda. They got rich and kept expanding the property. They felt lonely and built an adjacent hotel to welcome weary travelers. This story shows in every detail.
The hotel opened in 1930, not just on Route 66 but also on the busy Amtrac line. People would get off the train and pick between the formal dining room and the inexpensive casual one. During the war, they served spam sandwiches to the soldiers passing through. Sometimes they had over 3000 customers a day!
Rerouting the Route 66 and the waning popularity of rail travel hurt La Posada. Santa Fe Railway Company took over and as good as destroyed the building. They ripped up the beautiful wooden floors, cemented over everything, painted over murals, and turned it into an ugly, utilitarian office building. When even their luck ran out, they moved out and the hotel was scheduled to be demolished. Luckily the government stepped in saying La Posada was one of the most important buildings of the 20th century in the United States. They put it on the list of endangered buildings.
Allan Affeldt, an entrepreneur passionate about restoring significant buildings, jumped through hoops to acquire and raise funds to save La Posada. In 1997 he moved in and began the painstaking work of returning the hotel to its original state. He found pieces of furniture that the Santa Fe Railroad Co sold, auctioned, or lost.
At one of these auctions, an old English gentleman bought a mirror that he intended to return to the hotel when it opened its doors again. But years passed, and his son inherited the mirror. 40 years later, when the hotel finally reopened, the son, indeed, returned the mirror to its rightful place.
There are many stories like that. People loved the hotel and salvaged bits and pieces of it. Slowly it came back together and once again welcomes visitors.
You can book a room and stay, or spend a delightful afternoon roaming through, eating, watching the movie, and listening to a guitar player under a tree in the garden like we did, in this oasis of calm, just as Mary Jane Cotler had intended.
We finally made it to the Hackberry Jack Rabbit Trading Post! After what felt like a lifetime of seeing those relentless signs lining the road, we arrived… to find it closed. I climbed on the giant rabbit out front at least.
Then we passed the Wigwam Motel. I expected canvas and buffalo hides but the wigwams were made of cement! We ended up at the Union 76 gas station’s parking lot in Seligman for the night. It’s not La Posada or even a fake wigwam, but it’s a free place to crash with a clean bathroom, and after a day of chasing Route 66 roadside attractions, that’s good enough for me.
Next up, New Mexico‘s blue holes and giant Kings!
Our Gear, Tried and Tested
This sleeping bag is warm (high 30sF and up), soft and extremely comfy, best when you transport your gear by car – too bulky to carry in a backpack. You can use it in many ways:
- One huge, double sleeping bag for a couple and their dog (or child)
- 2 individual sleeping bags (zipped up)
- 2 blankets (completely unzipped)
- 2 sleeping quilts (zip up the foot box and leave the rest open as a blanket)
Double Inflatable Sleeping Mat
I tested this double, extra-wide sleeping mat by putting frozen ice packs underneath it. Then I laid on top. When I couldn’t feel the chill through the mat, I knew I had a winner. This foam-filled mat is big, bulky, and heavy – perfect for car camping but not for backpacking (unless you’re into rucking). It self-inflates and can be topped up by mouth.
We sleep on it in our tent, and also in our car – folded in half across the trunk and back seats to make a comfy sleeping surface. It’s a steal at just $60-$70, while similar mats can cost hundreds. For car campers on a budget, it’s a great choice that doesn’t skimp on comfort.
Immersion Water Heater
Our 67-day camping trip was fueled by hot coffee and tea, thanks to this electric water heater. The morning routine was simple: I’d fill my stainless steel thermos with water from the campground dispenser, drop in the heater, and plug it into the outlet in the bathroom. By the time I finished brushing my teeth, voila! Boiling water ready for our morning brew. One crucial tip: always unplug the heater before removing it from the water. The metal element gets red-hot otherwise. With this nifty device, we enjoyed hot beverages in national parks and rest areas, making those crisp mornings a lot more bearable.
Memory Foam Pillow
I can sleep on a concrete floor, as long as I have a good pillow. I’m a side-sleeper and this pillow props my head in just the right way. I use it both at home and while car camping.
Earplugs
As the wife of a champion snorer, I’ve become an unwilling earplug connoisseur. I’ve tried them all: uncomfortable plastic ones, gummy ones that I’ve somehow transferred into my mouth while sleeping and woken up chewing, and hit-or-miss foam varieties. Then my hubby, in a stroke of genius (or self-preservation), introduced me to these little miracles.
The process is simple: roll with your fingers, insert into your ear, and let expand. As they do, the world fades into blissful silence. Snoring, truck rumbles at rest stops – all muffled or eliminated. I reuse each pair a few times before switching to a fresh set when they lose their oomph.
These little foam marvels have saved my sleep and possibly my marriage.
Thermos Water Bottles
These trusty water bottles have been our constant companions across more than 30 countries since 2016. They kept coffee steaming hot on chilly camping mornings, held cold water during scorching Death Valley crossings, they tasted pristine glacier water in New Zealand, and woodland streams in Slovakia.
Over the years, they’ve acquired a few dents and scratches that tell the story of their travels. Now, covered in a collection of hippie stickers, they continue to serve us well. They quenched our thirst and fueled our adventures across many climates.
So, there you have it, that was the Arizona part of our Route 66 trip. We covered 10,259 miles in 73 days. The total damage? $2,894, or $20 per day per person. You can see the breakdown in the September issue of my Mappy Monday newsletter. 1000 Miles and Still Married
Curious about sleeping for free at rest areas in the USA? I wrote about it here: Free Car Camping in the US Rest Areas
